Sacred Flesh
by Shadsie
Summary: OoT/post MM basis. Sometimes, for the spirit or the flesh, death is only the beginning of something else. Link dies, leaving Ganondorf the opportunity to return in a most gruesome manner. Some sexual content and much morbid / just plain disturbing content
1. Loss

_Disclaimer and Notes: I do not own the Legend of Zelda, obviously. Anyway, this is a particularly creepy fan fiction. In fact, I asked a friend if I ought to write out this premise at all, and got her encouragement before going ahead. My thanks go out to Sailor_Lilithchan for the encouragement and for allowing me to borrow a few of her general ideas/theories regarding the LoZ universe (namely, thoughts upon OoT/MM Link's literacy and where Gibdos come from). This tale is both tragic and horrific – darkness and gory descriptions. It starts out as merely tragic but will firmly earn it's place in the horror genre in later chapters. Given the story I have planned, the rating will likely go from "T" to "M" eventually, for some disturbing scenes. _

* * *

**SACRED FLESH**

**A Legend of Zelda Fan Fiction by Shadsie**

The sky was unbelievably blue, like a cut sapphire, clear and flawless. The birds chirped in the gardens below and the wind kissed her skin cool from the open tower window. Zelda sat in her bedchamber, leaning with her arms crossed upon the stone windowsill. An open book lay on the bed behind her. There was no need to hold formal court today and she'd told her guards that she'd wanted to spend time working on the story she'd been writing. She had worked on it a little today – a strange, "fantasy-style" tale about a city of steel and glass and people who'd conquered the skies with machines. It was based upon some dreams she had, but none that she'd considered prophecies. They'd felt too distant to be premonitions.

Everyone knew her real reason for wanting to be alone. The north tower bedchamber was the highest room in the palace, the perfect place for watching for a person waiting for someone. Construction the palace was still going on, particularly around the south tower and the main courtyard. The first palace, and Ganon's Tower after that, had been destroyed years ago. The new palace, based upon the plan of the first, was very near completion, but the young queen insisted that it be a perfect replica of the original castle down to the last detail. This created much work for the nation's craftsmen and artists and did quite a job of raising national morale.

Peace reigned, for the most part, though there had been those that cropped up to try to destroy it. There was a cult group out of the desert that was known as "The Children of Guinan." Aside from a few assaults and robberies attributable merely to a few individual members, they had yet to make any major move. Zelda, in her wish to be an equitable queen, broke with longstanding tradition and allowed a small measure of political dissent in her kingdom – as long as it was voiced and not acted upon. She also allowed for religious freedoms, and by her own honor, could do nothing but have members of this group watched.

Then there was Agunim, which was the reason why she was waiting and watching at the window. Agunim was a bold wizard who had been causing a great deal of trouble in western Hyrule. He'd made an attempt at opening the Gate of Time to take the Triforce and had fled with his followers and army of magical beasts to the desert. He was building his power there and it was said that he'd been taking human sacrifices. Most of Hyrule's army was off fighting him, including the exalted Prince Link.

He never would become king. Since Link had not been born of nobility, he could only take the title of prince upon marrying Zelda. Even that wasn't a title he'd wanted and he'd said that he did not feel special enough to take it. There were men in the palace that said the Hero of Time was possessed of an overabundance of humility. Though he admitted that he looked very good in royal dress, he never seemed to be comfortable out of his commoner's tunic.

Zelda had received a letter by messenger-hawk the day before last from General Kenyon marking that the troops had been victorious and that they were on their way home. She'd been receiving his reports from the front for well over two months, as well as letters from Link. The poor dear – she could tell his letters well before seeing the signature at the bottom because of the way he wrote. He tried, but Link's letters always awakened the writer in Zelda, her inner editor.

The letters themselves were always drawn very neatly, but the grammar and the sentence structure were frequently off. Link knew that he wasn't a good writer and Zelda often gave him small lessons. Growing up as a Kokiri, he'd told her, he didn't learn to read. The Kokiri had fairies for that. When she asked him how he gotten through his quests, he'd told her that Navi (and then Tatl when he had been in Termina), had read for him. He'd said that he didn't get any formal lessons until Kafei and Anju had taken him in during the years he'd stayed in Termina. Common Terminian script was essentially the same as Hylian, and Link made it a point to read extensively to increase his skill and knowledge in the art, but the fact remained that he'd began to learn to read well after most other children in Hyrule did.

Writing, itself, is a skill that even the most avid of readers must practice much in order to do well. In addition to that, his lack of a royal education left him at a loss for vocabulary at times, so he never wrote eloquently. In the time that he was away, Zelda had made a game of his letters. She would take one that he'd sent her, dip a quill in a well of red ink, and make edits to his letter. She would send it back to him along with a letter of her own. Sometimes, he would send her a re-written copy of the old letter along with a new one. In this way, they continued their lessons together, even as he was away. Link's last letter had given Zelda a great deal of sorrow and fear. In addition to reporting some friends that had fallen, Link detailed a disturbing power that Agunim wielded. When soldiers got into a certain range of the wizard's stronghold, they'd stagger back, their blades and bows out, and attack the Hyrulean front. Apparently, Agunim's magic had the power of possession. Link had written that they did their best to incapacitate and capture the possession victims. He was adamant that he would not kill his own men, whatever state they were in.

According to General Kenyon, that was over now. They'd be bringing back the fallen to be given honors, and the majority of the soldiers were alive and well. The General had written nothing of Link, and it had been two weeks since his last letter. Zelda told herself that, in the last push of the fighting and in organizing the homecoming, he did not have the time to write. They'd be in each other's arms soon enough.

Their children, girl and boy twins, were with Impa and Mr. Hildebrand, their teacher. It was important to Link that his children have the education he never had. They were five years of age, having celebrated their birthday just before the army left. They wanted their daddy back and it broke Zelda's heart every time she had to tell them he wouldn't be back for a while. Their names were Kafei and Anju, after Link's adoptive parents in Termina. Anju was actually "Zelda Anju," because they both wanted to continue the name in the royal line, but the little girl was called Anju except in formal introductions. As far as the kids were concerned, they were "Fei" and "Ju."

Zelda saw figures moving on the horizon. She rushed out of the bedroom and she heard bells tolling. The guards on the palace watchtowers had seen them, too, and were calling the people of Castle Town to greet their loved ones, and, more importantly, the physicians to be ready to take care of the returning wounded. She ran into Impa in the hallway.

"They're returning!" Zelda said breathlessly, "Where are the children? Their father is home."

"They are still with Sir Hildebrand, my lady," Impa replied. "Do you not think it is best that they not see the men when they first arrive? There are dead and there are wounded."

Zelda nodded. "A wise judge as always, Impa. It is best for them to be kept from the horrors of war. I am sure they are eager, however, to see their father."

"There is a time for everything. Go on to the edge of the city. Minister Ayato and I can handle affairs here. Go see Link."

Zelda nodded in thanks and ran out onto the palace grounds and past them, to the edge of Castle Town. The crowd that had gathered parted to let their queen through. The approaching figures were now visible. Zelda caught sight of General Kenyon riding his armored white mare. Many men walked on foot, some of them armored, some of them not. A few of them wore bandages around their heads or had their arms in slings. Wagons rolled up behind them, pulled by horses, and some soldiers led horses without riders.

Zelda looked for Link. She caught sight of a horse that looked like Epona, sword and shield buckled to her empty saddle. Kenyon dismounted, struck his sword into the ground, and bowed before her.

"Queen Zelda, we have returned. Hyrule's enemy has been defeated."

"Excellent… General Kenyon," Zelda said shakily. She motioned for the palace and town doctors to see to the wounded. "General? My husband… he's not on his horse…he's…"

"Over here, my queen," Kenyon said, gently taking her by the hand. He walked her to one of the wagons. "I'm afraid he's been gravely injured, but he is alive."

Zelda peered into one of the covered wagons to find Link lying on a pile of blankets next to medical supplies and tins of salt pork. For a moment, she thought he was wearing his red Goron tunic before she saw the patches of green that showed otherwise. Zelda shivered. Link's eyes were closed and his skin was pale. His breathing was heavy and his face was etched in lines of pain, even though he didn't look fully conscious. Kenyon jumped up into the wagon's bed and crouched down next to him. The general put a hand on the prince's shoulder.

"Link... wake up, Link. We're home. Zelda is here."

"Zelda?" Link said, sitting upright in a bolt before grabbing at his middle and hissing through his teeth.

"Careful!" Kenyon scolded.

Zelda climbed up into the wagon and put an arm around him gently. "I'm here," she said, "I'm here. Lay back down."

She helped him lay back and she held his hand. He looked up at her, smiling. "What happened to you?" She asked. "Your last letter was two weeks ago."

"Thanks….for….the…editing," Link said weakly, squeezing her hand and trying to express mirth without being able to laugh.

"I watched it happen," General Kenyon explained, "I was too late. One of our men who became possessed by Agunim's magic engaged him and got him cornered."

"Blake…" Link whispered.

"Yes," Kenyon continued. "And Link played defense as long as he could. We tried to get at Blake, but…"

"Not gonna….kill… one of mine… Blake wasn't himself." Link said.

Kenyon sighed. "Blake slashed him good a couple of times, right across the chest there, then ran him right through the gut. We quick-patched him and have been giving him what potions for pain we can, but he's been suffering the last three days."

Link gulped and grit his teeth. "I'm fine, Kenyon. Don't worry about me."

"Says the man with the hole in his gut. Most men wouldn't be alive as long with the wounds you've got. You are one tough kid, but you've gotta let us take care of you… and her."

Link looked up into Zelda's sad but smiling face. "Where is Blake?" she asked General Kenyon.

"He's with us," Kenyon answered. "He's back to himself. Link laid a few cuts in him, but he's really none the worse for wear physically. He's taking what happened pretty badly, though."

"Full pardon," Link choked out. "He's not a traitor, he was just possessed. He needs to know I don't blame him."

A pair of palace physicians came with a stretcher. Kenyon helped them to lift Link onto it and Zelda followed him all the way into the castle infirmary, holding his hand. She was asked, politely, to vacate the room to give the doctors space to perform surgery. Many soldiers in varying states of poor health were being seen to, there, as well. Queen Zelda sought out the counsel of Impa and paced about the castle halls. She explained to little Kafei and Anju that their father was not well and they could not hug him and ask him for piggy-back rides yet.

It was early evening when Link awakened after surgery. By his request, he was moved to the bed in the royal bedchamber. He was dressed in a multitude of bandages and a thin, loose robe left open at the chest. Impa took care of the children while Zelda was left to care for him. Left upon a table next to the bed were herbs for him to chew on to dispel pain, potions to make him drink to give him strength, minerals and chemicals in pill form to fight infection, and fairy tears. The potions were the very same that Link customarily carried into battle, but he'd told Zelda that their ability to "give life" was a myth: they merely killed pain and boosted stamina and alertness. They did work to seal up things like internal bleeding, but they were not as magical as most of the salesmen would have one believe. They'd saved his life many times, but he still carried scars.

Zelda sat beside the bed and stroked her husband's hair. She stroked his ears, too. He usually hated it when people tried to touch his ears, but when Zelda did, he found it soothing. She always touched them "just the right way." He spoke to her of the campaign and of the sights he'd seen while she spoke to him about palace life, politics and the children's activities. He wanted most to hear about the children.

"Reading at that level already?" he asked. He smiled with pride. "My kids are smart."

"They are," Zelda replied.

"I'm cold," Link softly complained.

"You have all the blankets….I know what," Zelda said, rising from her seat. She climbed into bed and lay against him. She very gently laid her head upon his bandaged shoulder and held his left hand with her right. "Is that better?"

"Lots!" he said.

"You…" Zelda said, almost but not quite laughing, "You'll never grow out of your silliness. My silly Link." She kissed him gently on the lips, a quick, loving peck.

"Zelda," he began.

"You don't need to talk if it's wearing you out," Zelda replied. "Just rest, I'm right here."

"Zelda," he continued, "even though I'm in pain…. I'm hurting, but…. Even though I hurt, I am happy right now. So happy. You're here, next to me. I missed that so much. I can feel your warmth and smell the perfume that you wear, and you're just beside me, holding my hand. It doesn't matter that I hurt, because I'm content. I'm with you and it makes me so happy."

Zelda felt the tears running down her cheeks and she was sure Link felt them, too, as they soaked into his bandages. She felt his warmth against her and listened to his breathing. He was soon asleep. She followed him into the world of dreaming shortly afterward.

The young queen awakened the next morning, her hand still clutching Link's. "Link?" she said softly. "It's morning. I'm sorry I… fell asleep. Do you need anything?"

She noticed something strange and cold against her body beneath the blankets. The only thing her mind could compare the sensation to was "cold meat," and she wondered why she thought that. She hadn't yet opened her eyes and Link had not answered her.

"Still asleep?" She sat up and blinked the sleep away. She noticed a silence in the room, as if she were alone. There were none of the little snores and grunts Link often made while sleeping. Then she noticed she didn't hear his breathing. The hand she held was cold.

"Link? She asked. She looked down at him. His skin was pale and he was still… impossibly still. She squeezed his hand and let her tears flow freely.

The night had taken him.

* * *

_To his highness, King Zora of the Zoras, _

_The great Goddesses have seen fit to take from us a most exalted and valued person. Link, our Prince and Hero of Time has died from wounds received in battle. I am sure your heart bleeds at this news, as our hearts have been bleeding. His wounds were honorable in nature and Queen Zelda was at his side as he passed into the next world. We are preparing to give him full honors in the manner befitting our royalty. If it is possible for you, your presence and that of your court is requested for the funeral in a month's time. _

_Sincerely and sorrowfully, _

_Lady Impa Samara,_

_Royal Assistant to Her Royal Highness, Zelda Hyrule. _

Impa sighed. She'd written to Goron elders, to all the nobles and dignitaries within Hyrule and neighboring lands. She'd even written to the current queen of the Gerudo. She would have these letters delivered by the postal service, as the royal hawks were trained to deliver only to certain people.

The funeral would be in just over a month. It would take that long to prepare Link's body. Since ancient times, nobility in Hyrule mummified their honored dead. It was not remembered how the tradition started, but it was no longer believed that the body had to be intact for a soul to be received by the Goddesses. Now, it was merely a tradition, and considered a very high honor. In this way, a noble family could, in a sense, keep a beloved member with them forever, preserved in their tomb.

Some said that gibdos and even redeads were corpses that had been treated in this way, re-animated by magic as bodies without souls. A few tales had it that such creatures were the mummified dead, body and soul, unhappy about being forgotten by their descendants. No one in Hyrule Palace believed the latter was true, at least.

It had been two days since Link's death. His body lay on marble slab down in a cool area below the palace, where the embalmers would work. None of them had begun working on him yet. He had been the Hero of Time, and, as they'd told Impa, they were hesitant to cut into "sacred flesh."

Impa picked up a fresh piece of parchment and lifted her quill to write another painful letter. Most of the nobles would assume that Zelda should be the one to write them, but Impa did not mind taking up the task. Her mistress was in no state for it. Zelda wasn't in much of a state for anything.

The queen had been lying in bed over the last two days, her arm resting over the place on it where Link had been, weeping into the sheets. Even the small bloodstains from where he had leaked through his bandages remained, and Zelda would let no one change those sheets. Mr. Hildebrand had been taking care of the children, and the castle's mind-healers had not yet decided whether they should do something about the queen or to just let her mourn in her strange, private way.

A knock came upon the door of the drawing room. "Enter," Impa commanded.

"Lady Impa?" A cloaked figure inquired, "I have… I have news."

"What is it, messenger?"

"It is about Prince Link's body, my lady."

"What about it?" Impa asked, "Have the embalmers finally begun?"

"They cannot," the messenger answered. "It's missing. The body is missing."

* * *

Turn to the Next!!


	2. Revenant

**SACRED FLESH **

**Chapter 2**

The little buckboard crashed through the forest in the dead of night. Small and lightly built, its driver had only a little trouble navigating it between the trees. The black horse drawing it was light and swift. The driver stopped in a clearing. Several cloaked figures stood there, lightly illuminated by torches lit with pale fire. The torches were unnatural. The ground was laid bare in a circle, etched in deep lines depicting symbols of arcane magic. The entire scene was unnatural. Any normal person, upon walking into that clearing, would have felt malevolence on the air. The figures gathered around the circle all wore wooden masks, their eyes hidden behind the darkness of the hollows. The masks and cloaks gave their wearers the semblance of desiccated corpses, or of demons of a solemn nature.

A figure approached the driver, who was similarly cloaked. "Did you secure the sacrifice, Givanna?" it asked.

"Yes," Givanna replied. "I would have shamed our people if I had not. We are, after all, the greatest thieves in the world."

The cloaked figure followed Givanna to the back of the buckboard to help her with the wrapped cargo. A part of the blanket fell away.

"A handsome thing," the figure said, "Almost a shame that he made himself our enemy."

"One wonders if it is truly a sacrifice if we are not giving up something precious to us. Of course he cannot give himself up, being already dead."

"It matters not. He is the key to bringing our father back, so our ancient writings say."

"Here, Thera?"

"Yes, lay him down here, and strip the blanket from him." Thera then looked at the other figures, gathered in the clearing. "Take your places," she said, "it shall begin shortly."

Givanna took up her mask and put it on, taking her place at the edge of the circle. It was etched in many runes, symbols and characters. Her horse whickered gently somewhere behind her, tethered to a sturdy tree. She looked down at the body laid out in the circle's center. She'd gone through much trouble to get it. She'd surely have been executed if she had been caught, especially if it was found out what she had in mind for it.

Gathered around the transference circle were the eldest members of the Children of Guinan. This they were literally, for "Guinan" was merely a variant upon a much more well-known name. Every person here, save for the corpse on the ground, was a young, strong Gerudo woman. All of them were among the most rare and most proud of their people, "pureblood" Gerudo, the daughters of Ganondorf.

Most Gerudo were born from the union of a Gerudo mother and a Hylian or human father – generally the products of short-term dalliances, for that is how the Gerudo survived. Every female born was invariably a Gerudo, every male a Hylian or human, until every century or so, the Gerudo male of prophecy was born. His birthright was to become the king of their people, and with it came the privilege of having any female of the Gerudo nation he desired as wife, concubine or dalliance. Products of this were considered very special, the "purebloods" of the people, "genetically pure" Gerudo.

Ganondorf had been a virile man and had sired many daughters. He had not bothered to learn all of their names, for it was custom for the women to take care of their children alone, and to leave their king to his important political business. He was also seen very much like a brood-stallion - there to revitalize the Gerudo blood, but it not being necessary for him to take part in raising of offspring. In fact, "The Stallion" was often the nickname for the king. Givanna remembered her mother crying when she talked about her time with him, but she was proud to have given birth to her. She was "pride that had been worth the pain."

Now, the Daughters of Ganon, or the "Children of Guinan," were not looked upon with pride anymore. The Hylians and humans held nothing but suspicion and contempt for them. Even their own people had largely rejected them. Some of Ganondorf's daughters were content to put up with the prejudice, insistent that they could make peace with their own people and with others. The "Children of Guinan" who'd formed this "cult" in Hyrule were not content with a life in the shadows. They'd decided that the Gerudo were in a poor state without a strong king, and that, despite his abundance of zealotry and some poor decisions in the past, that Ganondorf could have made an excellent king. If he caused the other races to suffer, it was simply justice for how their kings had long treated the Gerudo.

Ganon was gone – if not completely dead, then sealed away, but now, a link in the chains that bound him was broken. The Hero of Time was dead, and that was the key that could bring him back.

Thera began a chant and everyone repeated after her. Givanna felt the low thrumming in her chest and throat. She could even feel the magic gathering around her, flowing through her body, through her feet, and into the ground.

"The King of our people, Hyrule, the Hero of their people… bound with chains stronger than iron, stronger than blood, stronger than Time…"

* * *

_Heartbeat. Weak and slow. A languid struggle in his chest. Thrum. Thrum. A pulse. It almost sounded like beeping, a sharp noise and feeling, telling him that he was close to death, but that he was alive. His arms and legs felt stiff, and especially his back. Somehow, he could feel blood drawing up from his limbs, rear and back and he felt a dull, deep ache, like bruising. What was this pain in his middle? Dull cuts in his chest…_

_He drew in breath and felt his lungs filling painfully. In. Out. In. Out. His skin tingled and felt cold, and then he felt a warm sensation all over. He tried out his muscles. They moved sluggishly, protesting against his bones. His eyelids were heavy and he rose to his feet before opening his eyes. _

_Who was he again? Ga- Ganon, Ganondorf. Yes, yes… That blinding flash, familiar voices, then that feeling of cold flesh and a struggling heart._

"I live," he said simply. His eyes were still tightly shut. Why were his eyelids so very heavy?

He felt a hand on his shoulder, a calloused, Gerudo hand. "Our father, our king, you have returned to us."

Ganondorf opened his eyes and looked around himself. The world was blurry and he blinked several times to make it clear. Cloaked figures stood in pale firelight and each of them took off their masks. He recognized these women as ones he'd seen at one time or another. Thera he'd known well. She had been the first child born to him, when he had been a young man, an adolescent, in fact. She had studied under Kotake and Koume and was a sorceress nearly as formidable as they had been. Ganondorf felt a smile come to his lips. Thera had found a way to bring him back. He would not have to wait centuries to have his revenge.

He held up his fist. Wait, something wasn't right. His fist wasn't the familiar strong, dark-skinned hand he was used to. It was strong, but it was small and pale. The skin was light colored and soft, younger than his own. Ganondorf looked down at himself. What he saw was the nude body of a fair young man. A strand of hair fell into his eyes. In the torchlight, Ganondorf saw that it was blond. He patted himself down. There were wounds with stitches on his chest and in his stomach. Though this body was clearly not his own, something about it was familiar, like he had seen it before, though not in this state of undress – Ganondorf was one who liked intimate companionship of women only and he was not a physician. Still, he could not shake the thought that he had seen this body, that it had belonged to someone he had known.

"What have you done to me?" Ganondorf demanded.

Thera approached him and bowed before him. "My lord," she began, "We have brought you back. Regrettably, we were unable to bring you back as quite yourself, but I am sure you will find this vessel more than sufficient."

She signaled to another cloaked Gerudo, who approached Ganondorf holding a small mirror. She held it up in the light before him.

Ganondorf studied his face. The reflected face of the person he most hated stared back at him. He gently stroked the long ears and the blond bangs. He looked down at his hands. These were the hands that had destroyed him, that had sealed him. He flexed the fingers. He threw his head back in a laugh. He noticed, then, that the voice he was laughing with and the voice he'd been speaking with was not his own. He continued to laugh.

How victorious he felt!

Givanna spoke up. "We are happy to see you pleased, my king, my father."

"This is, indeed, the perfect vessel for revenge," Ganondorf replied. "However, I must ask… why am I in Link's body?"

"He died from battle wounds," Givanna answered. "We apologize if your transference was met with any difficulty. He is nearly three days dead. I was unable to procure him any sooner. According to our research, your best chance of coming back was through the flesh and blood of one who defeated you, through one of those to whom you are bound to through the Chains of Time."

"The Chains of Time…hmmm." Ganondorf said, twisting around to get a good look at his new torso and backside. "I did curse Link and his descendants as I fell behind the Sages' Seal. Who killed him?"

Thera approached him and nodded. "A wizard named Agunim was the one responsible for Link's death."

"Agunim," Ganondorf said with a broadening grin. "I shall have to remember that name."

* * *

Blake paced about his quarters in the royal barracks. Battle was done for now, but he was restless. Twilight settled outside of his windows. They were open to let in the gentle spring night breezes. Torches and lanterns were being lit outside.

The young soldier paused to look up at the main palace. It was so beautiful at night. He almost regretted that this would be the last night he would see it. His sense of justice would not allow it. What kind of man was he? A very weak man to have let himself be overcome so. If he had only fought harder against the dark magic, he wouldn't be seeing the queen's shadow pacing back and forth by the windows of the North Hall. He had killed the Hero of Time. This meant that his life was worthless now.

Prince Link had given him a full pardon. He had not blamed him for what had happened, but Blake could not accept that he was blameless. He'd plunged his sword into the Hero with his own hand. The man hadn't even died easily – Blake had caused him to suffer, to linger for days before death took him.

Blake took his favored weapon off the wall. He kissed the leather-wrapped hilt. "Well, old friend, you shall take me, too. It is time."

Blake was out of his armor, clad only pants and a loose white tunic. This would be quick and clean. He took a deep breath as he placed the tip of his sword just beneath his breastbone. He held the hilt in both hands. Now, all he had to do was to fall, to fall and to thrust, and justice would be done. He breathed heavy and closed his eyes.

He felt a sting in his wrists and heard a clatter of metal upon the stone floor. "Wha?" he exclaimed.

"What do you think you're doing?" General Kenyon roared. He'd come in through the open door, his own sword in his hand. The general quickly sheathed his weapon and picked up Blake's.

"I…General Kenyon….I…." Blake panted.

"You were about to deprive Hyrule of one of its best soldiers, that's what."

Blake gave him a haunted look. "Kenyon, I killed him. I killed Link. How am I supposed to live with that? I deserve to be executed."

"Blake…" Kenyon began, "You and I both know very well that it wasn't you. That was Agunim. His magic was controlling you. It may have been your body, but it was not your mind, your soul. If you had any say in the matter, any at all, we both know that Prince Link would be alive right now."

"If it weren't for me… he'd be alive right now…"

Kenyon smacked him across the face. "Stop it," he said. "He could have killed you easily, and in the state you were in, he would have been well within the bounds of honor. He chose not to. Link spared you. He gave you your life, and you're ready to throw it away! If you want to honor him, live."

Blake hung his head. "I am deeply sorry, sir."

"I am taking your sword. I want you out of my army until you can pull yourself together. Go home to your parents. Spend some time with your family. Seek out the mind-healers."

A figure rode through the yard outside the windows. Both Blake and Kenyon turned to look at it. It was a cloaked person riding a black horse.

"How did he get past the guards?" Kenyon asked himself before bolting out to halt the shadow.

* * *

Zelda paced a lonely hallway, carpeted in red, hung with tapestries. Every once in a while, she'd pause to look outside a window, sighing. The sunset was so beautiful; it made her sniff back tears. She and Link had shared many sunsets together, just like this, yet different. Every sunset was different – the nuances of color, the light-tinged clouds against the sky, none of them ever remained the same. Zelda preferred the sunrise, because it was the beginning of a day. Twilight always felt sad to her, because it was an ending. Link preferred sunsets. For him, it was a simple matter: He didn't like getting out of bed early enough to see sunrises, if he could help it.

He'd said he'd seen his fill of them when he was in Termina – and the same set of three, over and over again. He'd also said it always rained on the second day. Zelda wondered if Link was watching the sunset now – if he could from the land of the dead. She told herself that the Goddesses were taking care of him now, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Perhaps she was being selfish for feeling that this happened too soon. She didn't want the Goddesses to take care of him: she wanted to take care of him.

It was said that, in the hour of twilight, that the world of those that had passed on and the world of living intersected. Zelda imagined, briefly, that Link was here, beside her. After all, it was said that when Hyrule was in greatest danger, that the Hero of Time would appear. Already, talk abounded that Link would come back someday, when the kingdom had need of him. Zelda looked at a pair of tapestries bordering one of the windows. On the right was a graceful unicorn against a field of grass and flowers. On the left, against a similar field, was a rampant gryphon. The unicorn was a symbol of innocence and grace. The gryphon was an animal symbolic of protection. Zelda wondered if she should have the gryphon taken down.

She turned around and gasped sharply. A figure stood at the end of the hallway. Her hand subconsciously went to the small dagger that she kept on her belt for personal protection. She did not draw it, but she prepared to. "Are you lost, sir?" she asked. "I normally receive guests and pleas in the Throne Room, and not right now. I am still in mourning. Minister Ayato will be happy to see you."

The black-cloaked figure stepped closer to her. "I am here only to see you," it said softly. It was a man's voice, quiet and familiar. He stepped closer, into the hallway's lamplight. He gently pulled the hood back from his head. Zelda's heart nearly stopped. He smiled sweetly and his blue eyes shined with life.

"L-Link?" Zelda asked cautiously, stepping toward him.

He nodded.

She tentatively touched his face. "But… you're dead. You died next to me. I woke up next to you and you were dead!"

He hugged her and let her cry into his shoulder. "It was fate that I come back to you," Ganondorf said with Link's soft voice. "It was fate that things be set right."

* * *

Turn to the Next!!


	3. Decay

_Notes: This is the chapter that puts this fic in the "M" rating. A warning for possibly triggering material. I pretty much wrote out a scenario that is the worst thing that could happen to Link ever (yes, worse than death). If he were real, he'd hate me for this chapter and I suppose there'd be shish-ka-Shadsie on the Master Sword – but it would never happen if he were real because I don't write Real Person Fanfiction. Being a fictional being, I can give him nice stuff in another fic. _

_If anyone wonders why I'm hashing out these long chapters so fast – it is the way I write when I really get inspired – the stay up all night writing thing. I'll get an idea for a story and I'll just want to get it done with – it is why most of my fanfictions are single chapter / one shots. Also, I am generally bored if I'm not doing something creative and, as of the meantime, I am lacking a job – so that means … stuff like this! _

_I plan to wrap this semi-long, morbid tale up in the chapter after this one, so hang in there, folks. _

* * *

**SACRED FLESH **

**Chapter 3**

"Daddy, do that trick!"

"Yeah, Daddy, please?"

"Yeah!"

Ganondorf sat in a beautifully carved wooden chair, Link's son and daughter seated on each of his knees. They were beautiful children, or well-bred at least, for the Hylian stock. They each had every feature that made for the "perfect Hylian," – fair skin, fair hair, sparkling eyes, faces with soft skin and good symmetry, and those long mule-ears. Kafei and Zelda Anju's ears were not especially lengthy yet, but the ears would grow as they did. Ganondorf guessed that they might even grow to be longer than their parents' ears. The children had a perfectly balanced mixture of features from both their mother and father. If they had been Gerudian-horse foals, their breeder would have been proud.

"Trick?" Ganondorf asked. He didn't think he'd ever get used to using Link's voice. It was a voice that was both confident and quiet, a gentle kind of voice. It did not feel natural to the soul within the body. Ganondorf used these vocal cords, but they did not resonate the same way his own had. He missed having power and a sense of fierce authority in his speech.

"Yeah, Daddy!" Zelda Anju spoke up, "How you walk thorough walls!"

"Hmm?" Gannondorf asked, "Walk through walls?"

"You did it for us before…" Kafei said with a pout.

"Alright, let me up," Ganondorf said. He walked up to the south wall of the children's bedroom and walked into the wall, pressing his face against it. Kafei and Zelda Anju squealed in laughter.

"Daddy!" Anju scolded, "That's not right!"

Impa entered the room. "Children, it is time for your lessons."

"But we were playing with Daddy!"

"Your father has his own business to attend to. The lessons will not be long. Come on now."

Ganondorf nodded and smiled to Impa as she took Link's brats to their daily lessons. They were very well-bred, but in the end, Ganon hated those mule-ears. The people of this kingdom of Hyrule were stupid. The ancestral Hylian features were held up as signs of great beauty and destiny. The long ears were especially prized. It wasn't much unlike the treatment his own people gave the "purebloods" of the Gerudo - his own daughters. However, the idiots of this kingdom actually saw the Hylian breed as a superior race. Surely, not everyone did, but enough of the population treated the mule-eared people as though they were holy and could do no wrong to make him sick. They were called "The Benevolent Race," blessed of and considered a blessing of the triune Goddesses.

"Benevolent," indeed. It was this breed above all others that pushed the Gerudo into the deserts in ancient times and kept them there in modern times. Ganondorf remembered a time he'd been a boy of fifteen years and he'd been a part of a rescue party sent out to take back members of a raiding party that had been captured by Hyruelan soldiers. He remembered coming upon their camp at the desert's edge. He remembered the rough Hylian soldier in heavy armor pushing around the disarmed and shackled women. The men in the camp had laughed - Hylians and humans - as they hit them and groped them. Ganondorf recalled that soldier most of all – tall, with long ears like blades.

Children cried in that camp. The raiding party had been in a training exercise – A few of the women had brought along their daughters. A little girl had cried loudly as the big Hylian beat her mother with a slat of flat iron. The man drew a small knife from his belt and slit the woman's throat. He swiftly turned, grabbed the child and cut her throat, as well. The fury of the Gerudo came upon that camp that night. Ganondorf, himself, had wounded that Hylian soldier and had stood above him, watching the fear in his eyes just before he took the knife off his belt and cut his throat to mingle the man's blood with that of his people.

Ganondorf had been biding his time with palace life. It was fully believed that the Hero of Time had come back to them, that he had risen from the dead, and that he had been given this blessing by the Goddesses. It gave Ganondorf, or "Link," more precisely, an almost godlike status among the people of Hyrule. People bowed wherever he went. They fawned upon him. They asked him to favor their children with a touch. A few sick individuals asked him if he was capable of healing them. He wasn't, but he'd send them off with a few vague words. Ganondorf put up with it all, for the time being.

He knew that he was yet unable to open the Gate of Time. The Triforce had left its three bearers once he'd been defeated and Link had traveled back to his own time. The bearers were still possessed of an "essence" of the piece of the Triforce they'd once held – or at least, Link and Zelda were. Ganondorf could feel the small sensation – the "impression" left by the Triforce of Courage within Link's body. In any case, he knew that to have ultimate power, he needed to open the Gate of Time, and for that, he needed to take the Master Sword, which was resting in the Temple of Time. He had Link's body now, which he'd once thought was the key to that, but he found whenever he drew near to the Temple of Time, he grew very weary and dizzy, so much that he'd collapsed once, and so much that he could not approach the doors without feeling violently ill.

The fact that he'd coughed up a syrupy black ichor when he'd stepped upon the first entranceway step disturbed him the most. It was fortuitous that no one had seen that, for the palace physicians would have insisted upon examining him. As much as his spirit and taken over, there were aspects of his body that did not seem to be under his full control, particularly aspects that did not seem as fully "alive," as they should be.

Ganondorf wandered down into the castle dungeon. No one was incarcerated here at the moment and, though lonely and dark, it did not hold the same aura as the old dungeon did. It had been rebuilt, just like the rest of the castle. The prison's stone bricks were new and neatly cut. There was something sanitary about it, "virgin," even. He caught sight of a shadowed figure waiting outside a cell – just the person he wanted to see.

"Givanna."

"My lord."

"Did you have any trouble entering the palace grounds?"

"Not at all. You shall have to hire better guards once you take over."

"There have been… complications."

"I imagine. Thera is working tirelessly to find a way to perfect the bondspell."

"Tell her to work harder! Quicker! I got a scratch on my arm today. It didn't bleed red. It bled dark brown…. Ichor, rot-blood. I wake up to pale skin and must cake on make-up before that fool Hylian queen wakes up. She's been asking why I've been merely picking at my food. I believe the digestive organs are already beginning to decay, and the sword-wounds are sealed but they never completely healed."

Givanna sniffed the air. "There is no noticeable odor of death," she stated.

"I can feel this body rotting all around me," Ganondorf said. "It is work to will the blood to flow and to keep myself warm. I have to channel much of my will to keep from going stiff. He is quite dead, Givanna, and I will not be again!"

"You need nourishment," Givana said. She brushed her right arm and wrist with her left hand, sending a glowing red aura into it. It was a share of magic she knew. She, as well as a few of the other Children of Guinan had, in turn, been meeting Ganondorf here in the royal dungeon every three or four days.

Givana took a dagger from her hip and slashed her right wrist twice. The magical aura joined with her flowing blood. Ganondorf took her wrist into his mouth and suckled the warm fluid. He began to feels stronger, warmer, and more limber.

"Blood for blood," Givanna said, "Life for life. Unfortunately, Thera believes that the problem is with the 'sacred flesh."

"Sacred flesh?" Ganondorf inquired, looking up for a moment. He ran his tongue roughly across Givanna's wounds.

Givanna winced. "Yes. 'The sacred flesh rejects the wicked soul.' Thera believes that Link's body may actually be actively rejecting your spirit."

"How can that be?" Ganondorf spat. Givanna took her wrist back and made quick work of bandaging it tightly. "I am not an infection – he is dead! A corpse doesn't have a will of its own!"

"Bide your time, father," Givanna answered. "Your rule is soon at hand."

* * *

In the meantime, Ganondorf had his silent revenge. In the deep of the evening he held her close as they danced to the songs of the court musicians in the grand hall. She might have been the queen of Hyrule now, but to Ganondorf, she was still the foolish little princess. Why the Triforce of Wisdom had chosen her those many years ago was beyond him. She had no idea with whom she was truly dancing. A smile came to his lips as he thought about how truly vanquished Link was. Not only did he die, but his wife was in the arms of another man – a man she thought was him.

And he'd cut that pretty little throat of hers when the time was right for it. When it happened, she'd be looking up into his eyes – Link's eyes. Such delicious betrayal. Would he tell her then who he truly was, or would she let the dying girl believe it was the man she loved killing her? First, he needed to secure his place in the royal household, see if he could get that "prince" business changed – his "resurrected hero" status would surely help with that. More importantly, he had to find a way to break the seal on the Gate of Time. Until he could figure it out, he needed to play the games and he needed his darling Thera to secure his hold on life. Then this country - nay, the entire world – would be his again. His people – those of his personal choosing – would inherit the land long denied to them and all who did not bow to him would have their wills broken. Hyrule would once again lay in beautiful devastation. Blood would be spilled for blood. Life would be given for life. Was it justice, or merely greed? Ganondorf did not care.

Zelda held "Link" close. It had been a month since he had come back to her? Yes, that long. The children insisted that he had never left – had never died. They claimed they'd seen him in the hallways and in their room during those few days he'd been laid out down in the palace funeral parlor. It was an easy thing to dismiss it as just childish imagination, but Zelda knew by experience that the words of children should be listened to the same as those of adults. It broke her heart when she heard her little son and daughter talk about that, but she had come to the thought that they must have inherited her talent for premonition. They had known that their father was coming back, so to them, he had never left.

She was careful in being close to him, for though he'd had his life given back to him, he still had deep wounds. He had pulled the stitches out himself – that was Link, reckless and unnecessarily brave, no doubt he'd insisted on doing it himself just to be "macho" – but the scars left behind on his torso were quite ugly. Zelda wanted him to be as close as he could be to her at any opportunity, but she did not wish to hurt him. The young queen wanted to cling to him, for a deep fear of losing him again. She savored the feel of his broad shoulders, the rise and fall of his chest as he drew breath, his scent…

His scent had been strange lately. Zelda could not place it – it was a strange, sweet scent, like flowers left in a vase for too long, or a summer garden where the tomato plants hadn't been watered. It was light, but it teased her senses and she did not like it at all. Link always smelled of grass, of leaves, of steel, and oftentimes, a mild scent of horse mingled with male sweat. He didn't "stink," exactly, it was just a strange, mild, sweet odor that, for one reason or another, sent a stirring in her soul and disturbed her on a deep, subconscious level.

She felt something warm and hard against her thigh. She felt the blood rush up in her cheeks. "You're… a bit excited," she said to her partner.

"So I am," Ganondorf said with the feigned cheerful embarrassment of a young man.

Zelda waved her hand to dismiss the minstrels. "Shall we go up to the bedroom?" she asked, looking into "Link's" blue eyes, "Are you ready for us to… right now? With your wounds?"

"I am alright, my princess," Ganondorf said with a kiss to her hand. "Shall we?"

"I haven't been the princess for a while, you know."

"You will always be my princess."

They walked together up the winding stairway to the royal bedchamber. "Link" nodded to the guard to signal him to leave to give them their privacy before they entered and drew the door behind them. As Ganondorf delicately assisted Zelda in removing her clothing, he paused to admire her supple flesh. It was such a beautiful color, like sand, or rose petals, pale and pink. Her body wasn't quite as robust as that of a Gerudo woman. He was sure he would kill her if he'd had his native body.

Her hands unlaced his tunic and trailed over his chest, careful of the wounds he would not say caused him no pain whatsoever. They were soft hands. The women he'd remembered being with all had hands that were rough and calloused. He lay over her on the spacious bed. He bent over her and began kissing her neck…. Yes… the soft skin of a kept, royal woman, scented with perfume that smelled like flowers – not like the spices the women of his people wore. He could feel her veins beating beneath her skin. He felt her hands on his back. One of them trailed to grab his right buttock. He trailed down with his kisses and let his tongue trail over her soft breast. He felt his need and could not hold back. He bit down.

"Link!" Zelda yelped. "That hurt!"

His lips found her neck again, her throat. So tempted he was to bite down and rip it out, but other regions of his borrowed body were enjoying her warmth and life. He felt a very strange presence in this room, like a lingering memory. Beyond the enlivening sensations of sex and conquest were sparks of emotion, thick and cold like fog. They were feelings of deep sorrow and loneliness, helplessness and deep, deep anger. Gannondorf dismissed them. He was not sure from where they were emanating, but he knew that, like this body he was using, they were not his.

"Link! Stop it! You don't have to be so rough! You're hurting me!"

Ganondorf paused in mid-thrust. He pinned the young queen's hands firmly against the bed. "Is that any way to treat one who's recently come back from the dead?" he asked.

"Are you okay, Link?" Zelda asked. Ganondorf felt her body shiver in fear beneath his. "This isn't like you!" she exclaimed. "If you want to try something new, I'll understand, but please, you really are hurting me."

Ganondorf knew then that she must have seen the gleam in his eyes, the gleam of a conqueror, exulting in victory. He drew his mouth close to her ear. "I haven't had this in a while," he whispered, "You are my wife and you will humor me."

He continued his onslaught and she yelped and cried. He saw something like a shadow in his peripheral vision. It was like a shadow, but it was made of pale light. He felt a wind slice through him, but nothing more. He turned his head and saw it more clearly. It was obvious that Zelda did not see the same thing that he was seeing, nor did she give any indication of hearing what he heard. The voice was the very same one he'd been using for the past month, only it spoke with a boldness he had not heard since the great battle in his old tower.

"Get. Off. Her. Leave. Her. Alone!"

Ganondorf laughed. The ghost was a sketchy figure, like a drawing in reversed white and black. It rather amused him that the shade was carrying a spectral version of the Master Sword. It obviously did not carry the true blade's power, as the cuts Link made to him passed through him like mere cold breezes.

So this was the source of that anger he'd felt, and more so, that helplessness. "She doesn't see you," Ganondorf whispered. Another hard thrust. "Quite the stamina to this body…"

The ghost's face twisted in an expression of pure, murderous rage. Link's spirit swung at his body madly, as though he were trying to cut it to pieces, to no avail.

"Poor little fairyboy… Cannot save his princess. She doesn't even hear our 'conversation' over her own screams, does she? Do not worry. I will not kill her. I would need my own body for that."

The spectral Master Sword dove and dug into his chest and swung for his neck. Ganondorf thought he could see the ghost shedding sparkling tears. He wondered when Link would just fade off and leave him to his "romance," but having him around made it much more fun and much more stimulating.

Zelda was firmly in a world of her own, a world of pain and shock. She'd asked him to stop, why hadn't he? Link was always gentle with her, caring, more concerned with her pleasure than his own, even. What had gone wrong? Why was he doing this? Was this some kind of punishment for letting him die? Something wasn't right.

Ganondorf separated from her and lay gasping beside her on the bed. He soon fell asleep. Zelda lay shivering, staring at the young Hylian beside her – the husband she did not know. She did not see nor sense the presence of the ghost that stood beside the bed, trying to hold her hand and stoke her cheek with his incorporeal fingers. She did not feel the tears shed upon her chest.

Later the following day, Zelda would come to attribute Link's strange behavior to a fever – something he was surely suffering from because of his unhealed wounds - and would attend to his sickbed quietly.

But a large part of her knew that something wasn't right.

* * *

Turn to the Next!!


	4. Brave

**SACRED FLESH **

**Chapter 4**

Ganondorf sat in Hyrule Palace's west garden, beside a bubbling fountain carved with the strange, birdlike figures of the fabled Ancient Ones. His fingers played over the Ocarina of Time, which he had demanded be given to him three days ago. He'd spent time like this in the morning, alone, practicing countless songs. Small changes in pitch told him that he wasn't quite getting them right. Ganondorf had musical ability – he was a master of the organ, or anything with keys for that matter – but not all musical instruments were the same. Perhaps, he thought, it was comparable to a watercolor painter learning how to paint in oils – the underlying talent could be there, but it needed practice to be brought from one tool to another.

And this is precisely why Ganon came out to any given garden around the palace alone. Link – the true one - had been extraordinary with the ocarina. While long fingers with quick reflexes had come with his body, the ability to play the instrument with his mastery had not. He knew that it could be telling that "something wasn't right with Link," if he was caught playing off-key. It did not help that the fingers had been growing progressively stiff.

He continued to meet with the Children of Guinan for the magical infusions of blood that were necessary to keeping Link's body mostly alive. It seemed that he needed greater quantities of blood, and more often. He'd nearly killed Jova the other day. His desire had been to drink her dry, but he forced himself to stop. There was a need to maintain his cattle.

Zelda had touched his hand last night and recoiled, claiming that his skin was cold. He could feel himself that he was, more or less, beginning to reflect the temperature around him. He'd scratched himself on the thorns of some of the bushes in the south garden yesterday afternoon. He'd bled that obnoxious dark ichor he'd grown to despise. He had been quick to cover up the wounds. He had no hunger, anymore, for customary foods and ate very little when he was expected to take meals. His muscles felt sluggish – in a strange combination of stiff and loose. He felt as if they were struggling to keep his bones connected to each other.

Ganondorf had also noticed a most disturbing inconvenience: He'd been passing an inordinate amount of gas. He knew very well that, after death, if a carcass was left to decay naturally, after a time, the middle would bloat up with inner gasses. This had not happened to his borrowed body just yet, but he knew that in his fight with nature, that nature would eventually win. He felt a disturbing wet weight in his lower abdomen. He was sure parts were beginning to liquefy. If this continued on, no amount of his people's blood would be able to hold him together. Strangely enough, there was no strong smell about him, as would normally accompany this kind of rotting. He attributed it to magic, and perhaps a bit of his own powerful will. Still, time was important.

When Thera had come to him to give him her blood, she'd told him to keep his patience as she continued her research. Surely, the power of the Triforce would restore the body completely for him. She'd also informed Ganondorf of something he'd found especially interesting: if all else failed, she knew of a way she could transfer him into the body of one of Link and Zelda's children. He could not hop to just any body – for his soul was bound to Link and to Zelda – and especially to Link. It was possible, however, for him to transfer to someone in his direct bloodline. The fact that the children were also of Zelda's bloodline made it all the more possible. Ganon did not want it to come to that. It was not compassion, but politics. Taking over a child would leave him powerless within the royal court. In Link's body, there was much he had the freedom and the power to do. As "Link," he already had the trust of the people, however misplaced it was, and, in the meantime, there was no greater power available to him.

Ganondorf continued to practice, without success. Several birds had gathered around the area since he'd sat down to play, which puzzled him. If he could not get near the Temple of Time to take the Master Sword, perhaps he could open the Gate from afar with the Ocarina, and once open, anyone could enter – as he remembered. Givanna had confirmed for him that the three sacred gems remained there. He felt a wriggling sensation in his right ear. He cupped it and shook his head, as if he were shaking loose water trapped after a swim. He examined his palm to find a small, writhing maggot. Time – he was definitely running out. At least, Ganondorf mused, Link would never be using this body again.

He'd seen his ghost a few times around the palace, almost always as a flickering impression in his periphery. He'd seen him trailing behind Zelda and entering the children's' bedroom. It was rather pathetic, really, that helpless, lingering desire to protect – at least that's what Ganon assumed it was. The shade had not spoken to him since the night he'd first seen him, when he'd been with Zelda.

Ganondorf wondered if Link would eventually become a Poe. Poes were malevolent spirits, ghosts with great desire and great anger – Ganondorf was quite familiar with them. They were thought by some to have healing properties, and, in fact, if drank from a bottle, they would either heal or cause wounds or sickness, depending upon their whims, before exiting the body of the one who drank them to go back to their customary haunts. They were entities that suffered a deformation of the soul – twisted by their sorrow and anger into something almost always unrecognizable from the people they'd been in life. It would be a fitting end for the Hero, he thought - an eternity without rest, a true and complete defeat.

Zelda stepped out into the breezy archway that led to the west garden. She watched "Link" in silence and he did not seem to hear her approach. His back was turned to her as he played the ocarina and many colorful birds gathered in the trees above him. It would have been a beautiful scene, save for the lingering sense of distress she felt. The songs he played were all familiar, save for a key off here and a key off there.

There were some things she'd kept secret from Link. When she had sent him back in time, two interesting things had happened. First of all, she had gone back with him, into her own young body, and she'd remembered everything – from Ganondorf coming to the kingdom as an emissary, to meeting the boy from the forest, to donning the guise of Sheik, and finally, the harrowing battle in which Ganondorf was sealed. Link knew at the time that she'd remembered. What she did not tell him is that, soon after he'd left on his personal quest, she had forgotten everything. Time cycled just as it had before, with its tragedies repeated. Only after Link had returned from his long years in Termina did Zelda's memories come back to her.

He had assumed, upon returning, that she'd tried to prevent Ganondorf's rise herself and had failed at it. He blamed himself, yet he knew that if he had not left Hyrule, Termina would have been destroyed. His transfer had been different from Zelda's. He had not gone back into his younger self – he remained a separate entity, therefore, Link would, also, have run the real risk of running into that former self. From what Zelda had told him of what she'd read in old spell books on time travel, the consequences of that would have either been a time paradox that would have destroyed the totality of existence – or both his selves would have merely fainted. The latter was deemed more likely, but he had not wished to risk the former.

Time travel and time's flow was different in Termina. When he'd traveled back through time there, his spirit had always returned to his former body, yet he was able to keep several of the things he'd find over the three days he'd been running around until the end of the world. When Link had told Zelda about this, he'd admitted that he didn't even try to figure it out.

What Zelda didn't tell Link was that she could not have prevented Ganondorf's rise because of her failed memory. She could only assume that Nayru meant for the flow of time to remain constant – even with its pain. She was unsure why she'd kept this from him. Perhaps she'd felt ashamed that she did not try harder to hold onto her memories.

The other thing that Zelda had never told Link was that the Ocarina of Time she had given him when he'd set out on the journey that eventually took him to Termina was a copy of the original. When she'd sent him to his own time, the Ocarina had "split." She had been left with two, equal in power. The original artifact was something she'd sealed away in a special place once it was no longer needed, telling no one of its location. After Link's return, he had given her back the instrument that he'd held. Zelda did not know why – whether it was because of overuse, or because it had traveled to a mysterious land – but its power was largely gone. The ocarina still possessed a small amount of magic: it was able to tame wild animals and to call birds. Zelda had decided that the original Ocarina of Time, which had retained its power, was best left sealed away. She would only give it to Link if times were dire and he truly needed it.

As it is, when he'd demanded the instrument, she'd given him the copy. She did not know why he would need the magical artifact to merely play in the garden. He had an ocarina of common variety for that. The world was in no need right now for a time traveler or for any person to manipulate aspects of nature at whim. There was something deep down within her that didn't trust him. That feeling ripped at her heart. Until recently, she could not imagine not trusting Link. She'd put her confidence in him, even when they had been children, even before she'd fallen in love with him. Lately, he just wasn't himself.

Besides that night when he'd been rough with her (and they hadn't had martial intimacy since then), he'd been demanding recently, and he'd seem to forget things that were common knowledge to the both of them – like the names of the servants and soldiers around the palace. He had been treating them curtly, too. Link had never treated the servants like servants. Even as they'd given him the respect due a prince and a hero, he had treated them like equals. He'd often insisted upon getting things and doing things himself, as well, being an independent person. Lately, he had abandoned these "commoner's quirks."

The day before yesterday, she'd walked up quietly behind him as he was writing a letter. She wasn't in a habit of reading over people's shoulders, but she'd read a little of what he'd written.

"Do we really need more horses?" she'd asked. "It is not as though we are preparing for war."

"Of course we do," he'd replied. "We never know if war is on the horizon. If we take mares from Lon Lon and breed them to Gerudian stallions, we will have a breed unparalleled in speed, strength and fearlessness."

"That is well, but that many? I do not think Lon Lon has that many mares of breeding age."

"Then we can breed young."

"Is there something wrong with your left hand, Link?"

"No, why?"

"You are writing with your right hand."

He'd explained that he was trying to train both of his hands to work equally, that it was a skill he wanted. Zelda thought that he was writing much too naturally with his right hand for someone who was trying to train himself to use a non-dominant appendage. Also unnatural to her were the words upon the parchment. Link had never used such an elegant mode of address and the writing was eloquent, not riddled with the confusing grammatical errors that were the hallmark of Link's writing.

* * *

Zelda went back inside, leaving "Link" to his frustration and to his unwanted birds. She went on her way to the Throne Room, where she could hear the day's business from her ministers and formal pleas from her people. She stepped over the plush carpet of a hallway and past a great mirror. She paused to brush some hair out of her eyes and to make sure her hair ornaments were straight. She saw something behind her reflected image. It seemed to take on a higher definition even as she felt something cold – yet strangely comforting – upon her shoulder. She squinted into the mirror. A face? Yes, no?

She stared, mesmerized, as something that looked like white smoke coalesced and formed a distinct and familiar visage. "Link?" she asked before turning around.

Nothing was there.

* * *

Twilight was falling in the south garden as Zelda spent some time with her children. "Link" had taken over with the ministers, allowing Kafei and Zelda Anju to spend some playtime with their mother.

Hide N' Seek and Tag were difficult to play in a dress. That is why the young queen insisted that little Anju not be required to wear dresses except on formal occasions. The girl ran around in pants or shorts, and a tunic not unlike her brother's. She had Impa's backing on this before the court. She'd wished that she did not have to wear dresses all the time when she was a child. Her father had insisted upon propriety. For Zelda, that only meant that she'd ripped a lot of expensive fabric to pieces and had ruined a lot of shoes climbing trees and playing with the royal hunting dogs when she was a youngster. She'd only been allowed to be out of a dress during her self-defense training sessions with Impa. She wanted to give her daughter more freedom.

"When are you and Daddy gonna take us to see the Forest Children?" Kafei asked as the three of them sat down on a brick planting bed after a session of a game they'd invented with its own rules that was something like Marco Polo without the swimming pool. "We've been good this whole year!"

"Maybe when things become a little more settled," Zelda said. "Your father still seems unwell."

"Daddy said he wants to talk to you," Anju spoke up.

"Daddy's with the ministers right now, honey," Zelda said.

"Nooooo!" Anju insisted, "Not that Daddy, the other Daddy!"

Zelda laughed, thinking it was a game.

"Inside Daddy is scary," Kafei said.

Anju wandered toward a row of bushes. Dusk was falling rapidly. It was just about time to go inside.

"Anju!" Zelda called, "Don't wander. It's time to go inside and have your bath."

Anju seemed to be talking to a bush and Kafei didn't seem to find anything out of the ordinary. If this was a game, it was certainly something they'd conspired on. Anju walked back toward Zelda, holding her hand out by her side as though she were holding the hand of some adult. The sun passed behind a row of trees, dipping over the peaked roofs of Castle Town beyond.

Zelda nearly had a heart attack.

There was a person holding her daughter's hand. He glowed with a greenish white light. His eyes held an unfathomable sadness, but he smiled a gentle smile.

"Link?" Zelda yelped. "But… you… you're inside with the ministers. What are you doing out here and how come I can see through you? What does this mean - ?"

"I died, Zelda," the ghost simply said. "I'm so very sorry…"

"But you came back!" Zelda said, disbelieving. "You've been with me!"

"That… that's not me," Link said slowly, his translucent eyes cast toward the ground.

Zelda shivered, partly in fear, partly in longing, and partly in pure confusion. "Who is it, then, Link?" she asked, wanting answers more than anything.

"Guh," Link began, as though he did not want to say it, "Gan-Ganondorf. It's Ganondorf. He was brought back... using my body. It hasn't been me in there, it's him. I never came back from the dead – he's just using my remains as a puppet. I couldn't move on with that going on."

Zelda gasped softly, putting her hand to her lips.

Link nodded sadly. "I tried to stop him from hurting you, but I couldn't do anything. I'm useless like this."

"No, you're not," Zelda said, stepping forward to give him a mock-embrace. She felt cool wind against her skin, like ice but not burning. "You were able to speak with me."

"After… a lot of practice," Link said. He stooped to give an incorporeal embrace to his children. They took stances as though they were used to this.

"The faith of little children," Zelda mused.

"You have to stop him, Zelda," Link said. "He's keeping my body alive through magic. I'm basically rotting around him. If the witch that brought him back completes the binding, Hyrule will become a monsters' country once again… people will die. What's more - he may take one of the children."

Zelda gasped again.

"He's bound to our bloodline….somehow… if he can't get my body to work, he'll take Kafei, or Anju. We can't let that happen."

"Daddy?" Kafei whined fearfully.

"It's going to be okay," Zelda said. "I'm not going to let that happen."

* * *

"You cannot do this my lord," Givanna protested. "It will make you no better than them. Just wait!"

Ganondorf paced about the Armory. "Givanna, the blood is no longer working – not yours, not anybody else's. Look at me, Givanna, look at me!"

Givanna looked into his face. Blood, dark brown and syrupy, was oozing from his nose, his lips and from his tear ducts. The makeup was falling from his skin, which was pale and gray. He was every bit a corpse.

"My eyes are beginning to fail," he complained. "All my senses are dull. I will not go back to that prison again!"

"But they are children, Lord Ganon," Givanna replied. "They are not our enemy."

"They are!" Ganondorf roared. "They are his! They are Hylians! Why should I care about their welfare when I've seen the soldiers of this people murder ours? Why should I care when I've watched little Gerudo girls starve to death in the middle of the drylands? I have no compassion for ignorant fools that live in luxury, no matter how old or young they are."

"Do you know the reason why I took part in brining you back?" Givanna asked, edging toward the shadows.

Ganondorf took a long, double-edged sword off the wall behind him and looked at his blurry reflection in it. "You brought me back because you wanted a strong king."

"No," Givanna answered. "I wanted to bring you back because I wanted my father back."

She rushed toward him, brandishing a scimitar.

"Foolish child!" he growled, bringing his blade to clash with hers. Despite the sluggish, tender feeling in his muscles, this body retained some of its former skill. His reflexes were surprisingly sharp. He sent Givanna back, crashing into a suit of armor and a rack of axes.

He stood over her, watching her pant and bleed. "I'll leave you to think about your actions," he said before exiting the room.

* * *

Ganondorf strode through the castle corridors, careful to avoid court members and guards. He kept wiping his face on a handkerchief, but the ichor continued to ooze out of him. Zelda had been outside playing with the children earlier. They had probably been bathed and put to bed by now, and Zelda was probably taking her bath.

He burst into the children's bedroom. He would take both of them to Thera – if one young body failed, he'd have another. He was not thinking of propriety, politics or consequences now. He felt his hold on this world slipping. Ganondorf would not let himself be sealed within that vacuous white prison again. He thought about how to go about killing one or both of the children in a way that would not cause significant trauma to the body. Even if Thera's seal once again failed to be complete, it would buy him more time – more life.

The children were awake and huddled on their beds, staring at him with fear in their eyes.

"Come here," Ganondorf said. "Daddy wants to take you somewhere."

"We aren't going!" Zelda Anju cried. "You aren't real Daddy!"

"You're a bad man," Kafei said.

"You're coming with me!"

"No, they are not." Oh, that voice again. Ganondorf watched the white smoke coalesce. The little boy and the little girl stood behind it. There stood the ghost of Link, sword drawn, determination etched upon his spectral face.

Ganondorf laughed. "Like you are going to protect them. You are powerless now, you know. Go on, swing that sword at me! It is a farce, a shade, just like you!"

Ganondorf felt a swift, sharp punch under his breastbone. He turned around to see the face of Zelda. She gripped a long dagger in both hands, the tip of it thrust into his heart. "Guh?" he managed.

Her gaze was like steel, determined, hard and as sharp as swords. "Goodbye," she said.

He watched her as he fell, toward the ground and into the white light that would consume him.

* * *

The guards had found her weeping in the children's bedchamber, on her knees before the corpse of Prince Link. Impa ushered the children away and Zelda told a story that was seen as rambling and incoherent. She was escorted to the castle dungeon, for fear of her safety as well as that of others.

She sat in a dark cell, her only companion the spirit who held her hand.

"They think I've lost my mind," she whispered. She felt the cold presence beside her, his icy "breath."

"It will all work out in the end."

"You think so?"

"I know so. You are the destined queen of this land. That cannot end with you in a cell."

"What will you do now? Aren't you supposed to move on?"

Link regarded her with a bittersweet gaze. "I don't think I'm destined to," he said. "I feel a need to pass some things on, I guess, but Kafei and Anju are not yet ready. I don't know if they ever will be. I'm just around until the Goddesses decide otherwise, I guess."

"What do you want done with…. You know, your body?"

"Just burn the thing. It's not like I need it anymore."

Link vanished as Zelda heard the clink and clatter of chains and armor. A guard approached her cell and unlocked it. He was followed in the corridor by two more guards leading a young Gerudo woman in chains. She wore fresh bandages and looked like she'd had something rough happen to her. The guard that had opened Zelda's cell bowed before her.

"Our most humble apologies, my queen," he said. According to the physicians, your story seems to be quite true. The poor prince, to have that done to him!"

"Who is she?" Zelda said with a nod of her head.

"An intruder on the palace grounds, but she testified on your behalf. She claims she is a part of that Children of Guinan cult and told us of the very wicked things they have done. Her fate is up to you, Queen Zelda."

Zelda chose to remain in the dungeon, outside of the cell of the woman who called herself Givanna. She heard the Gerudo's story with great interest.

"I await execution," Givanna said.

"You say it without passion," Zelda replied.

"Cowardice is not the way of my people," Givanna answered. "Sometimes, the best we can do in life is to die well, when it comes to it."

"You shall not die," Zelda said decisively. "You have committed serious crimes, but you stood up to Ganondorf in the end. Go back to your country and be at peace. The problems that your people face have already come under my consideration."

* * *

People came from all corners of Hyrule for Link's funeral. Many of the dignitaries thought it strange that the queen and her children did not weep. They stood and watched the priest scatter the ashes from an urn onto the winds that blew out into Hyrule Field. The testimonies and eulogies from the leaders of the races brought the gathered crowds to tears, but the royal family was serene, at peace.

Some say that if you go out onto Hyrule Field at night, you might catch a glimpse of a wandering spirit, dressed in green and carrying a sword, waiting for the time when his country will need him again.

* * *

END.


End file.
